A/N ***This chapter is a little different from the rest of the story, it's not based around a song, it's based on a piece of writing...I understand that a lot of people don't read lyrics in a story, but I would ask that you try to read these words that are not mine, they are perhaps more important than my words... This is long but I couldn't find a way to split it. Also I was afraid that i'm starting to push the limits of a T rating so have changed it to M just to be careful ***
I know it's sad but i'm so excited with my 5 reviews on this last chapter...i got 5 on my one shot and on one chapter of my first story but these are all from regular readers and I really appreciate them so much. I don't get a lot of reviews so thank you...
Windsinger89;Thank you so much. Being the recipient of your first review wasn't forgotten and I saw you also favourited my first story, thank you...Your loyalty means a lot as does your review. I'm glad that the story reaches further than just benson/barba shippers, as you may have seen it was never mean to be a barson romance... I suppose the sweetness of their relationship is there to balance out the darkness of the subject matter a little, again i'm glad it didn't put you off. Oh i think i can almost guarantee a limit being hit...i think i have a plan but who knows...i don't think it's realistic to not hit a few stumbles...
FicFriend;you made me laugh...I suppose i am going for it...I'm glad the development feels real and you can feel the trust in their exchanges...I do understand my subject matter, because I do have personal experience. I'm sort of glad you could see it because i would hate to not do it some sort of justice...As your review arrived I was typing the words "I guess writing this is cheaper and easier and less unmasking than therapy would be..., Writing this is cathartic and painful. It's scary and it's satisfying..., I don't know if it's helping I just don't think it's hurting..."Thank you so much for acknowledging my experience by saying you are sorry...it means a lot. I love that you don't just want to see them together that it's the journey that interests you...I can't imagine her healing like this without Barba either which I think is how i wound up here...I hope i continue to enjoy...This was more than a review of a story...it means so much more to me so thank you.
MrsChilton; Thank you as always. I do believe Barba would be a researcher...I'm glad you approve...He is sweet, I wouldn't say no to one for myself actually...:)
mom2knjj; again, thank you...I am really enjoying reviews like that!
Intala; As always...thank you isn't enough. Hopefully the realisation that she isn't as broken as she thought might free her a little...
The few hours left in the afternoon and early evening fly by, in a mess of laughter and playing and stories, until a freshly fed and bathed Noah lies in his bed, trying to fight his heavy eyelids to hear the end of the third story he has demanded. As his eyelids droop closed for the last time, I place a soft kiss on his forehead.
I have really enjoyed the unexpected time with my quickly growing son, and he seemed to understand the unusual weekday treat of having so much time to play, so he took full advantage of my unbroken attention.
I smile at the toys littering the living room. They are evidence of our time together and the fun we had, as his imagination grows as quickly as his little body.
I start to collect the colored blocks into the toy box, that Rafael once teased was merely decoration, knowing that he will soon be back.
The toys are quickly gathered into the corner that has become theirs, and I turn my attention to the kitchen where Noah's dinner has left its mark. He wants to feed himself but is so easily distracted that he often wears and drops more than he eats. I know he eats plenty and it is all part of his normal development so I just set to cleaning up the mess that seems to always follow in his wake.
I am glad when a soft tap on the door announces Rafael's presence again.
I wipe my hands on a cloth, walking quickly to the door.
He steps inside, smiling, with a small bag in addition to his regular briefcase. He is dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater and I find I like this more relaxed looking Barba. He reaches into the small bag to pull out a bottle of my favorite red wine, kissing me softly before heading to the kitchen to open it.
As I finish throwing Noah's dinner dishes in the sink he turns to me, pulling me into his arms "How do you feel Liv?"
I smile, nodding, as I rest my head on his shoulder contentedly.
We take a glass of wine each and head over to the couch taking our regular places, as I lean back into his arms and he stretches out along its length.
"Did you bring any of those books Rafael?" I ask knowing he won't volunteer them for fear of pressuring me.
I can feel his uncertainty as I sit up, turning towards him.
"I brought what I have... I quickly looked through them...after you told me in particular, what you were looking for...there's not really a lot I could find on the topic in them...there seems to be more about it in writing aimed at...the men in the women's lives..."
I can see his is more than a little uncomfortable, and even though it is not an easy conversation his unease is a lot more than I expected...
"What's bothering you Rafael?" I ask gently taking his hand, looking him straight in the eye, "We can talk about anything..." I reassure him...
He seems relieved at my question but also more ill at ease...
"This feels wrong Liv...not the conversation...or the reference material...but me giving them to you..." His eyes drift down until I take his face in my hand, he leans into my hand looking back up at me ,"I can't see how taking this material from me isn't pressuring you..."
The depth of his thoughtfulness floors me. I can't speak and I can't stop the tears that fill my eyes. I can see his breathing speed up, and fear cloud his face as his eyes widen...
"This isn't pressure Rafael, I don't feel pressured...you are giving me some of the best of your research to help me...I don't know if I'm strong enough to wade through unhelpful, hurtful material now,...I want to try and build a relationship with you, but to do that we need to talk? You are just helping me start the conversation..."
Whilst still not completely convinced, I can see him relaxing that I don't feel pressured. I lean into him fully, wrapping my arms around him tightly, kissing him lightly, "Thank you so much Rafael, for being so thoughtful, for being so caring..."
He returns the hug tightly, "Ok...there doesn't seem to be a lot on the subject specifically but I did find something that I thought might be a little helpful..."
He reaches for his briefcase, pulling out two printed pages, "I downloaded this for you...I know you weren't raped, and some of it doesn't apply, maybe it's even a little simplistic, but I thought it might be kindda what you were looking for..." I can see he is a little nervous that somehow his choice of material will somehow insult me so I squeeze his hand gently before taking the proffered pages.
'12 Things No One Told Me About Sex After Rape'
By CJ Hale
'There is a strange sort of unspoken theory that once a woman has been raped, sex is no longer a viable option for her. Sex has been replaced by trauma, fear, pain, and anxiety. I'm not saying this is never the case. Every survivor's story and experience is different, but too often the assumption is that if you have been raped, you are sexually broken and forever unfixable. That sort of discourse is not healthy or empowering or even sympathetic. What I want to say is what I wish I had been told: rape is not a form of sex, it is a form of assault. Sex feels good. Assault is traumatizing. It is possible for sex to exist after rape because they are different experiences, just like it's possible for you to still enjoy going out to eat even if you got food poisoning once. You might never go back to that restaurant again, but it doesn't mean you will get food poisoning every time you go out.'
I can see he is watching me carefully as I read every word. His eyes flicking between my face and the page I clasp in my hand.
'Admittedly, I don't know what sex before rape is like. I lost my virginity to rape at 14. People are willing to give a lot of guidance on what a survivor is supposed to do after her rape. Do not change clothes. Do not shower. Have someone you trust take you to the hospital. Report it immediately to law enforcement. Reach out to loved ones, find a therapist, become an advocate for other survivors.
But it's been 10 years and these are the things nobody told me about sex after rape:
1. Nobody tells you that you'll feel guilty the first time you have a crush on a guy after your rape. Aren't you supposed to hate men now? I mean, ugh, penises are evil and one ruined your life. You shouldn't even be thinking about boys. That's what got you in trouble in the first place. (Oh, hey rape culture, how'd you get here?)'
The words are swimming on the page and there are a couple of tears already soaking into the page, and I am only at number one. I can't speak so I gently point a finger at number one and look to him nodding faintly.
He immediately understands that I feel this confusing guilt, this fear. He takes my free hand in his squeezing tightly, lifting it to his lips, kissing it gently. His other arm is loosely around my body as I lean slightly against him.
My finger traces my journey down the page to number two...
'2. Nobody tells you that you'll be called a tease when you draw the line at making out. Even though you're pretty proud of yourself for this minor victory on your path to regaining any confidence in expressing your sexuality, some people will think you're a prude because you won't take off your pants.'
I look into his tear-filled, shimmering, green eyes, "Never Liv, every tiny step is a victory and I will never pressure you for more. You are in control, always...there is no point that you can't say stop. I will never be offended. Please don't ever allow things to just continue...The only way you could ever hurt me is to not stop me if you are not comfortable no matter whether it is a kiss or more..."
I nod softly letting my finger continue to trace down the page to number three...
'3. Nobody tells you that the first time you do take off your pants in front of a potential partner you'll cry almost immediately and put them back on, leaving without an explanation. You'll feel embarrassed and stupid and you'll wonder if you're ever going to be capable of intimacy ever again.'
Another tear-filled, failed, attempt with Brian flashes through my head as I nod again, "It just feels like such a failure...like I'm not an adult..."
He carefully wipes my tears away, "It's ok, what can we do?"
I expected him to tell me it didn't matter but when he asks for a plan of how to deal with it, I understand he half expects it to happen and instead of feeling angry and damaged as I had expected I would, I feel hope again...
I know we are trying to formulate a plan for any sort of aborted attempt at intimacy, but I just don't know, I don't have any suggestions, I don't want to need any plan...
He has obviously really thought about this though, "Should I move away from you, give you space?" he asks carefully.
I shake my head, trying to envisage situations where this could happen, "That would probably feel worse...maybe hold my hand..." I whisper.
He smiles, nodding, "What about clothing? If I'm partly dressed, should I cover up or redress?"
My hand reaches up to stroke his cheek, "You've really thought about this Rafael?"
"I'd thought about it a little before, but after what you said this afternoon...I need to ask you for guidance when I'm not sure...I don't want to hurt you..."
I nod, more grateful than I could ever put into words "I don't know about clothes, Rafael. I suppose it depends on the situation...maybe don't jump up and get dressed..."
"Maybe just pull a sheet or something across my lap?" he suggests softly, "it wouldn't feel like I was pulling away but if you were scared it might make it a little easier...?"
In this simple offer he has shown how hard he is trying to understand, he understands that if he were to pull away I may feel even more embarrassed, more stupid, and still he knows that his naked body could be a cause for upset if my mind can't separate his body from a much less welcome one...
Another quick nod decides it, as my finger slides down the list to number four
'4. Nobody tells you that masturbation is a healing practice (OK, maybe your therapist suggested it once or twice) and that realizing you're capable of sexual satisfaction after rape is an incredible, powerful feeling. Sometimes it takes a while to feel wholly reunited with your body in this way, and you're allowed to take all the time you need. Sexual exploration is a journey, not a destination.'
He looks at me tenderly, silently questioning...
I'm uncomfortable, not for the obvious reason of the subject matter, but because of my earlier thoughts of how disconnected I was with my own body.
"Liv, we can talk about anything...are you comfortable with your body?"
I shrug, "I'm not completely at ease...but...it's nowhere near as bad as it was...it's sort of a truce I suppose...I don't feel like I used to, before...and the scars are horrible, it's not just the look of them, it's what they remind me of, but it's a lot easier now...I know you couldn't see them last night, but you could feel them, and I knew that...but I didn't care...even though your touch involved them, I felt pleasure..."
He smiles, "It's important..." he whispers softly, not pushing or embarrassing me. And when my finger slides down the page again he kisses the hand he has and lets the subject go...
'5. Nobody tells you that your PTSD symptoms will be scoffed at. Your boundaries will be called "arbitrary" and you will be accused of "wielding sex as a weapon" and "putting yourself on a pedestal." Someone should tell you that people who say these things are the worst type of people to be around. They have no right to make you feel ashamed, but they will. If they have the potential to get angry about the choices you make about what you do with your body, they are not worth your time or energy or thought or love. But nobody tells you that.'
I just kiss his cheeks softly, silencing him with a finger on his lips, "They're not arbitrary, and you know that, you would never make feel ashamed..."
He kisses the finger silencing him and nods repeatedly, as my finger moves us on to number seven.
'6. Nobody tells you that the 'rape talk' will be a thing that has to happen before any romantic relationship gets too serious. Nobody lets you know that immature men will freak out and refer to your rape as "baggage" when they cut things off. And unfortunately, nobody mentions that some men will hold your hand and weep with you when you tell them, because they can't believe anyone would be capable of hurting you.'
"It's not one conversation, it's something that we will have to keep coming back to, especially in our jobs...you have to be able to tell me if you feel like you did after Amanda's disclosure,...and if I'm feeling particularly fragile I have to tell you...we see so much pain in our work, it's sometimes going to effect us...we have to be able to talk about it."
He again, nods his agreement, "I'm glad we're doing this Liv...I was worried...I wasn't sure what I should or shouldn't do...I feel more confident now, that I don't have to know...I can ask you...and I have a basic set of boundaries to fall back on...even before this was a possibility, between us,... I was worried about how to go about a sexual relationship,... after Amanda's disclosure,... with anyone...Fin confirmed what you said about sex being difficult in our line of work...I'd be nervous with anyone...it terrifies me that I could do anything to hurt someone like that..."
I know how hard it was for him to admit to me that he hasn't been with anyone since that, and that he would have reservations even if I didn't... "That's how I know you could never hurt anyone Rafael, because you feel like that...".
This time when I reassure him that he could never hurt anyone, it is with a long kiss and he chuckles lightly "See if you had reassured me like this the first time, I wouldn't have waited so long for more reassurance...". There is a twinkle of mischief in his eye and a smirk on his lips...
"Number seven...Counselor..." I remind him, bringing his attention back to the list
'7. Nobody tells you that there are men who are patient and kind. Some men will listen and support you and they will read and research and seek to understand. They will ask you what you like and what you don't like, they will be explicit about their concerns, and they will treat you with respect and dignity.'
"If you're really lucky you won't need anyone to tell you that..." I whisper placing small kisses all over his face.
"We're not at twelve yet Sergeant..." he gently teases guiding my finger to number eight
'8. Nobody tells you that the first few times you try sex again it might not go well. You might have a panic attack or a flashback, and you might scream or shake or cry or throw up or all of the above. What they should tell you is that the right partner will stroke your back or make you tea or hold your hair back for you. He'll leave if he's asked and he'll keep his phone on him so you can talk if you need to.'
"Please don't ask me to leave... I'll gladly hold your hand, or stroke your back or make you tea, I'll leave the room, I'll give you space or hold you tight...but please don't ask me to leave?" He softly pleads, "I don't think I could cope with the guilt if you asked me to leave, it would feel like I'd hurt you..."
He looks thoroughly miserable at the thought of being asked to leave and I understand, that as I'd feel worse after a failed attempt, by him jumping up to redress or pulling away from me completely, he'd feel that way if I asked him to leave.
I bite my lip, carefully considering his plea, "I might need some space..."
"I understand that Liv, I understand if you get scared, you may not want me to touch you in anyway, that even holding your hand may be too much, you might feel like you want to shower...I know that it's not about me, I'm sure I'd struggle to remember it at the time but I do understand it...but I couldn't bear to leave you...like that...If you kicked me out I don't think I could get any further than the hallway...I don't want you to think I don't respect you or that I'm trying to control you..."
I realize this is pretty much what happened after my nightmare, only last night, and in some ways it feels so long ago...I remember how angry his apparent disregard of my wishes made me, and how I lashed out indiscriminately...
"I'll try Rafael but if I need you to leave, I promise to call you as soon as I calm down enough...and I will try to explain, as best I can why I needed you to leave...I don't want to promise something I may not be able to keep. Last night when you wouldn't leave, I was angry at you, it felt like I wasn't in control, even of who was in my apartment..."
I can see he is thinking about this, "I didn't think about it that way, I thought you were embarrassed and scared...I didn't think about it like that, you woke up and thought he was hurting you, and then you couldn't even control who was in your home?...Ok"
I know this agreement is hard for him but he knows I will really try to avoid asking him to leave.
We return our focus again to the pages still clasped in my hand...
'9. Nobody tells you that the first time you successfully, enjoyably have sex again is empowering, and freeing, and overwhelming. Even if it only lasts two minutes, it will feel like an enormous victory. You will be happy in a way you weren't sure you would be happy again.'
We look into each other's eyes hopefully, knowing that this step would mean so much more than just the act of pleasure. The author has understood something I wasn't sure anyone would ever understand, for me successfully embarking on a sexual relationship isn't just about the physical pleasure it could bring. It's not even about just being closer to this man.
"It's not just about sex Rafael...it's a way of taking back control of my own body." My tears come fast and heavy as I struggle to explain something I'm not sure I completely understand myself, "What Lewis did, what Harris did, it was sexual...but it wasn't about sex...but as long as I can't...my body isn't mine...it's still his...every failure just means he still owns my body...he'll never be gone when I can't control my own body...I can still hear his voice in my head, but I can usually control that...when I can't separate what he did from pleasure...he has taken too much...I want to take this back...I want the choice...I want to feel again..."
I can't explain what it means, he has taken too much of who I am, no, who I was...I hate that I'm even thinking it, I can't say the words to Rafael, but I want to feel like a woman again...a sexy woman, not a sexless, lump of meat...I want an identity that goes deeper than what I do...it feels like I don't have a stand alone identity anymore, I'm an SVU Sergeant, maybe soon to be Lieutenant, I'm Noah's mom and as much as I've worked hard for both of those titles, as much as I value them, especially being someone's mom...on my own, I'm nothing...I want to be desirable...I want to be lusted after by this man...I want to be capable of deciding to share my body with someone...I don't want to fear my own sexuality...I don't want to stay like this.
"I don't want to be like this anymore...what they did, had nothing to do with sex...he said that I wanted everything that he did, I didn't...I told him I'd do anything, I told him I knew how to get him off, I tried to seduce him to save my life... I tried to use my body to stop him from killing me...If I believed it would keep me alive I probably would have done anything he wanted...I need to know that wanting to be with you, doesn't mean I somehow wanted what he did...I want to stop panicking when I need to make a doctor's appointment because I know there will be tears and panic when something as mundane as a smear test is mentioned...I have no idea how I got through a rape kit, I can't have really been there, because I can't even think about it...I want to be free from him"
Again I have reduced him to tears, one hand tightly clasps mine, his other arm still loosely encircles me but he seems to instinctively know not to pull me into him, I can see he wants nothing more than to hold me, I can see the pain in his face, his eyes, in the way he holds his body. We are both sobbing messes.
"You want to take back control..."
All I can do is nod, there is nothing left for me to say...
"You will Liv, I can't begin to understand how much is wrapped up in this for you...I'm glad you want to be with me... I'm glad you trust me to tell me all of this and to even consider taking this step with me...I want to be with you...nothing he said or did makes any difference to that, or to how I feel about you... You didn't want any of what they did...You did nothing wrong...None of this is your fault...We can do this...Is it ok if I hold you?"
Again his only answer is a nod before I launch myself into him, squeezing him as tight as I can while his arms wrap tightly around me, and one hand rubs my back while his other hand strokes my hair.
I keep replaying his soothing words 'We can do this'... 'I'm glad you want to be with me', 'I want to be with you...nothing he said or did makes any difference to that or to how I feel about you'.
As I calm down I can feel the scrunched up sheets of paper still tightly grasped in my sweaty, cramping hand.
I slowly unclasp my contorted hand, unsticking my hand from the tear sodden sheets, trying to smooth them on his leg as I lay in his arms with my head against his chest.
My arms wrap back around him but the crinkled, paper calls my attention to the last few items we never got to...
'10. Nobody tells you that it doesn't work that way every time. PTSD isn't cured by one blissful experience, and anxiety is a bitch. Sometimes you will burrow down deep in your comforter and wish you could just be NORMAL and have NORMAL sex like a NORMAL person. And it is frustrating. But you will remember that one bad experience does not negate your ability to have future good experiences. And you will drink your tea and feel better.'
I nearly laugh at the ridiculously timed gem of wisdom in our present context, quickly skipping on...
'11. Nobody tells you that people are capable of loving you after you've been raped, and that you are capable of loving back. You are allowed to give yourself to someone completely. Likewise, you are allowed to hold back. You are allowed to be fearful but you are also allowed to trust again. Your healing process is your own and regardless of how you get there, know that as long as you are taking care of yourself, nobody has any right to tell you differently.'
As I glance up at the man whose arms I'm lying in, I see a pair of green eyes looking back down at me. My hope is bruised but perhaps also a little stronger as he leans down to place a soft kiss on my forehead
"Sometimes you don't feel like you've made progress but you have..." he whispers into my hair.
I know he may be right but I'm too raw to feel it...
'12. Nobody tells you that just because he's the first boy you slept with since your rape doesn't mean you have to fall in love with him. You don't "owe" anyone else your love or happiness or body. You can be thankful and appreciative and comfortable, but if he's not "the one," don't settle just because he treated you better than your rapist. You're going to have good days and bad days. You're going to have good sex and bad sex.'
I barely even have a conscious thought as I read this last item on the list that gets knocked to the floor when I move to curl into him even tighter, feeling that he really may be there on the good and bad days. I just relax in his embrace, smelling the scent of him, that is so familiar and comforting.
When I feel my eyes start to close, the lids drooping much as Noah's had earlier, I slowly get to my feet, stretching lightly before I take his hand in mine and pull him to his feet,
"Let's go to bed..." I whisper.
We walk over to where he left his bag before heading into the bedroom. I lead him to sit on the bed, as I gather some pajamas and head into the bathroom. I return in a pair of sleep shorts and a thin tank top, to find he has also changed into his own nightwear, which is a pair of men's sleep shorts and t-shirt.
I can see him try not to obviously look at my bare skin of my arms and legs as I walk towards him.
I take his hand and lead him back over to my bed, turning to him as his legs hit the mattress. Without thinking I grab the bottom of the t-shirt he has just put on, attempting to pull it over his head. His arms start to cooperate by raising, until his brain intervenes..."Liv..." his voice is husky, his eyes pleading with me to stop...
"I know...I just want to feel your skin...I just want to rest my head on your chest..."
I can see him dithering, trying to decide if this is a good idea...
"Are you sure Liv?" he asks in the same voice.
I nod softly, "Just your shirt...", I don't know who the assurance is for, but when I pull the bottom of his shirt up again, he doesn't stop me and raises his arms to help me take it off. When it is off, he takes it from me and carefully lays it on the bedside table, silently making it clear he can put it back on if I want him to.
I crawl onto the bed and turn to him as he lies beside me. My hand softly strokes the skin of his chest, gently rubbing the soft hair. I lean in and kiss him deeply as the uncovered skin of my upper chest meets his. I can feel my body reacting to the feel of his skin on mine.
"I don't want to stop Rafael..."
I only need to glance at his eyes to know he feels the same, but he gently pulls my body to his side.
I nod my agreement that maybe this is as far as things should go now, and with a little help from me, he moves us around until my head is lying on his chest and my body is curled into his side. He has remembered how scared I was when I woke up to his arms wrapped around me, so one arm loosely lies across my shoulders while his other hand lightly holds my hand to his chest.
He leans down to kiss my head "Goodnight Liv..."
In return I place a couple of kisses on his chest where my head lies, "Goodnight Rafael...thank you..." I whisper back as a huge yawn escapes my lips.
I know that I will be asleep in no time, because I feel safe and relaxed.
My last thoughts are of slight incredulity that a half naked man is in my bed, and that his presence almost guarantees me a good night's sleep... as my eyes slide closed.
'But you're still alive, and I just thought maybe someone should tell you.'
A/N This chapter was based off an article written by CJ Hale called 12 Things No One Told Me About Sex After Rape. I just wanted to let Olivia and Rafael introduce it before I credited it.